


I Will Love You Better Now

by nothingwithoutyouxo



Series: Love & War [2]
Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-06-28 06:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15701646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingwithoutyouxo/pseuds/nothingwithoutyouxo
Summary: Peter Parker has already lost one soulmate. There's no way in hell he's losing another.





	1. Something That Will Never Be The Same Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I am aware this took longer than I said it would. I do have some good reasons for that which I won't bother you with right now. I know there were some people waiting very patiently (which I appreciate very much) for this so it has returned !!! To put it simply, like All Is Fair In Love, this fic will also be pretty painful. I hope you can find some enjoyment in it regardless :) 
> 
> Fic title is from Lego House by Ed Sheeran. Chapter title is from Life Goes On by E^ST.

The Gwen Stacey Internship Program. The shiny pamphlet was staring up at him and Peter wasn’t sure if he was sick at the sight of it or just horribly sad. There were voices in the room around him, mutters that he wasn’t paying any attention to. He was staring down at the picture of Gwen, his Gwen, on the front of the pamphlet. She was in her element in the photo, lab coat and goggles on and smiling down the lens of a microscope. It was so … _her_ that it pulled at him, made his heart want to burst. The room went very quiet and Peter looked up to see Felicia walking up to the podium. _I won’t be there, Peter, if that helps your decision_. The words echoed in his mind. He already had Harry’s letter memorised and it was constantly tearing him apart.

 

Felicia stopped and looked around the room, making eye contact with a whole lot of journalists that Peter was sure wouldn’t even know who the hell she really was, but she had an air of confidence to her that he almost envied. She was made for this. His eyes couldn’t move from her, she commanded all the attention in the room.

 

“Some of you may have already noticed but for those who aren’t aware, I’m definitely not Harry Osborn.”

 

Peter flinched at the name before he could stop himself. There were a few scattered laughs within the room and Felicia smiled, satisfied with her icebreaker.

 

“I’m Felicia Hardy, the new CEO of Oscorp.”

 

Of course she was. Harry would have never let it be anyone else. No one else would have been able to handle it, not really. There were more mutters around the room, more questions. Felicia silenced everyone again with a wave of her hand.

 

“The reasons as to why that is the case aren’t important right now. What’s important is this,” she said, holding up the pamphlet. “The Gwen Stacey Internship Program wasn’t my doing. It was a project headlined solely by our former CEO who couldn’t be here today for personal reasons.”

 

 _Personal reasons like leaving the country_ , Peter thought to himself. There was an ache in his chest that had been there since he’d gotten home the day before, since he’d realised that Harry wasn’t in New York anymore. Since Peter realised that he would probably never see him again. Felicia was still talking but Peter could no longer hear her. He had to focus all his attention on not bursting into tears in that moment. He genuinely thought he would be out of those by now, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

 

“The Gwen Stacey Internship Program,” Felicia continued. Peter wondered if it hurt her to say Gwen’s name as much as it hurt him to hear it. “Will allow senior students from Midtown High School and other surrounding schools a chance to be immersed here at Oscorp. It will count towards a students’ education and lead to opportunities of future employment here, all expenses paid, including colleges if that’s what the student wants. If not then it will look incredible on a resume.”

 

Peter thought about that while Felicia continued to speak. He thought about Gwen and how much her work meant to her, how much Oxford meant to her and how incredibly bright and brilliant she was. He thought about all the things she absolutely could have done if she hadn’t died. He thought about what Harry had said in his letter about her legacy, and he decided that he was right. This was what Gwen would have wanted, to help other kids who loved science as much as she did. To help them start a career. He wondered how Harry knew that she would have wanted that, but he was so glad that he did.

 

***

 

“I’m glad you’re here, Peter.”

 

Peter took far longer than he should have to respond. His eyes were focused on the other side of the room, where Gwen’s family were standing. Gwen’s mother and two brothers, all that was left of them. Part of him wanted to talk to them. To apologise maybe, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t know if he had anything that he could say to them. He wasn’t sure if he wished he did. When he finally met Felicia’s eyes she just smiled at him, an incredibly sad but patient smile and Peter wondered when everyone would stop pitying him.

 

“You were great up there,” he managed. “The promotion looks good on you.”

 

She gave him a worried look, as if she was surprised that he was somehow still standing. “Let’s go to my office,” she said.

 

Peter didn’t reply, just followed her. His heart was beating heavily in his chest because of course Felicia’s office had once been Harry’s office and for some reason just the thought of being there made Peter feel closer to him.

 

“So, what do you think of the program?” she asked, her heels clicking against the hard floor as they made their way through Oscorp. “I want to know your opinion of it all. It carries weight.”

 

Peter wasn’t sure if he had the head space to even think of an opinion. He swallowed and tried to make up some kind of response that would make even just a little bit of sense. The longer he took to respond, the more Felicia’s eyes kept flicking to him, and she slowed her pace.

 

“Take your time,” she added.

 

“I can’t think,” he settled on.

 

She nodded, pushed one of the double doors to her office open and held it for him. Peter stopped dead in his tracks. Now that they were here he wasn’t even sure if he could go inside. The last time he was here was when he found out about when - when Harry. He couldn’t breathe.

 

Felicia let go of the door, letting it fall closed and pulled Peter into a hug. “I know it’s hard, but it’ll be easier to do this inside. I promise.”

 

He nodded against her shoulder. His breath was coming in shaky bursts now and if he was on his way to a breakdown, she was right. He couldn’t do that here. Peter followed Felicia into her office and noted immediately that in what had to be less than 24 hours since Harry had left, she’d already transformed the room. The furniture, for the most part was the same, but everything was brighter. There was art on the walls that hadn’t been there before, pillows on the couch. There were flowers in vases and with the sunlight filtering through the large windows it almost looked like a completely different room. It just didn’t feel like one. Peter couldn’t stop thinking about the last time he’d been in here. The way he’d barged in here. The way he demanded Harry show him his wrist. The way he’d left without so much as another word. He felt sick. He felt like collapsing to the floor below him and never moving again.

 

Felicia seemed to have other ideas. Peter wondered if Harry had told her what had happened, if she knew about that conversation. He supposed that she must have. She seemed to know everything else. Felicia gently led him towards the desk, she pulled up blueprints of something. A new room. A new lab, he realised too late.

 

“We’re transforming a lab,” she explained. “We’re going to name that after her too.”

 

Peter still couldn’t breathe, not really. He was holding onto the desk in front of him so tightly that he could tell Felicia knew it was the only thing keeping him upright. “She’d love it,” he forced out. “All of it.”

 

“Applications will be open soon. We’re hoping to start some kids as soon the next school year starts.” Felicia pressed something, some button that Peter missed but the blueprints suddenly became a 3D hologram of the new lab.

 

He nodded, his eyes scanning it quietly. “State of the art,” he muttered.

 

“Nothing less,” she replied.

 

A silence fell between them. Peter could feel Felicia’s eyes on him, could feel how worried she was.

 

“Have you heard from him?” he asked, because he couldn’t hold it back anymore. Being in this room, knowing that Harry had been here just the day before. He had to ask.

 

Felicia shook her head. She pressed another button and the hologram went away. The blueprints were gone. Peter closed his eyes because he had nothing to distract him anymore and he needed to stop himself from crying _again_. “I don’t know where he is. Depending where he went he could very well still be on a plane right now,” she said.

 

There was an ache in Peter’s chest that he knew was never going to go away. He wondered if there was a way that he could word this to Felicia without seeming whiney. She didn’t deserve that.

 

“Peter, you need to talk about it.”

 

“I can’t - “

 

“You can. You just need to let yourself.”

 

Peter looked up at her. He guessed that if there _was_ anyone he could talk to about this it would be Felicia. Since she seemed to know everything, even the Spider-Man thing. That wasn’t a position that anyone else was in. “Why did he leave without saying goodbye?” he asked.

 

Felicia sighed. She made her way around the table and stood in front of him. “He thought it was the best way.”

 

Peter could have rolled his eyes at that. “Sure he did.”

 

“It’s sort of … like that quote in Harry Potter, opening at the close. You two started with letters and he wanted to end with one.”

 

Peter wanted to say that he thought that was selfish. That Harry had never taken _his_ feelings into account and what _he_ needed, but Felicia continued.

 

“In his eyes, Peter, he took everything from you. Gwen,” she reminded. “He sees what happened to her as something that he did.”

 

Peter shook his head. He _knew_ Harry and he’d been there that night. That _thing_ that he’d faced, wasn’t Harry. Not at all. “He can’t think that,” he muttered.

 

“He shouldn’t, but he does. Peter, out of every person in the world you mean the most to him -”

 

“Stop.”

 

“And because he knows what happened, because he thinks that he did it, he has to live with the guilt and the pain of that. Peter, he has to live knowing how much he hurt you.”

 

Peter wanted to be angry. He wanted to be furious and to yell and scream and throw things around, but he didn’t. He just started crying instead, and let Felicia pull him into another hug.

 

“It’s going to be ok, Peter,” she said. He could tell that she didn’t believe it.

 

***

 

The silence after Peter left bugged her more than Felicia thought it would have. It bugged her far more than she ever thought could be possible. She was used to silence, it helped her think, but for some reason this time it seemed to just scatter her thoughts instead of focus them. As much as she loved this office, being in here by herself felt wrong. Something was off about it. The room was too big, the sunlight through the windows was too bright. It was just too … _something_. She had no idea what that was, but hopefully it would go away. She needed to work. She needed to focus on the new lab, on the Internship Program, on other little things that were going on in the company. She had programs to approve and files to go through. She just didn’t have the ability to at the moment.

 

Felicia was far too worried about Peter. He’d been so shaken that morning. She wasn’t even sure how he managed to stay as long as he had. She had no idea how he’d managed to hold off a breakdown until they were already in her office. Peter had far more strength than anyone gave him credit for, that much was true. She doubted that she would have lasted as long in his position. Of course, Peter had every right to completely fall apart. He’d just recently lost just about every single person that had ever mattered to him. Even knowing Harry as well as she did, and understanding how he was feeling and his motivation for leaving, she didn’t think she could justify it. It was hardly a good idea for either of them when they needed each other as much as they did. As much as Harry had always been trying to pretend that he didn’t. She knew him better than that. She could see right through him. As for Peter, he’d already been pretty unstable considering what happened with Gwen, and now he’d lost the one true constant in his life. At least, the one constant that wasn’t his Aunt. May Parker had practically lost a son, not just once but twice. Felicia wondered briefly how she was doing. She’d have to drop by soon and check on her. Felicia had been so caught up in her thoughts that she barely registered her phone ringing beside her. She picked it up purely out of habit.

 

“Felicia Hardy,” she answered.

 

“Unfortunately, my plane didn’t crash.”

 

She jolted at the voice, suddenly wide awake. It was staticy, probably due to being so far away at the moment. She wondered where in the world he’d ended up. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she replied.

 

Harry laughed, but it was far more bitter than she wanted it to be. “I’ve made my peace with dying, Felicia. You don’t have to worry about that.”

 

“I haven’t.”

 

There was a pause. She could tell he was thinking his next words over. “Look, I’m not going to do anything stupid,” he said.

 

She almost rolled her eyes at that. Sometimes it was impossible to forget just how _young_ he was when he acted the way he did, jumping straight to defences. “I didn’t say you were.”

 

He sighed, and she wasn’t sure if she imagined the edge to it or not. She wondered if he regretted calling. “How, um, how did it go this morning?” he asked.

 

“You mean you weren’t watching the Facebook Livestream?”

 

A chuckle. “No, but I did hear that the views were pretty high on that. I’ll have to look into some articles later. See what everyone thinks of the new CEO. I was busy … focusing on other things.”

 

Felicia wondered how much longer he’d last without asking about Peter. He was definitely building up to it. She spun in her chair, gazed out at the dark New York City sky and wondered once again where he was. “Things like beaches and cocktail bars?” she asked.

 

“Not quite.”

 

She waited. There was another pause. She thought she heard a door slam in the background. Seems like he’d found a place then. Maybe she’d look into that, keep track of all the Osborn estates. She could probably locate him if she wanted to. It wouldn’t be that hard.

 

“Felicia -” he broke off. There was weight to the word, already indicating what he was about to say next. “How is he?”

 

Felicia watched the lights of the city before her and contemplated her answer. “What do you want me to tell you?”

 

“The truth.”

 

“He’s shattered, Harry,” she said.

 

There was a sharp intake of breath. She could practically see him, wherever he was, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I guess he would be.”

 

She had no idea what to say to him. She could berate him, remind him that this was his fault, since he was the one that left. That there was no reason that it had to be like this, but she knew that it would fall on deaf ears. She stayed quiet.

 

“I miss him,” he said.

 

“Call him.”

 

Another sigh. “I can’t.”

 

“What’s stopping you?” Felicia listened to the shaky breath on the other end for a moment. She knew that if anyone could come up with some sort of excuse for that, some sort of answer, it would be him.

 

“I am.”


	2. Can’t Believe That You Left Here (With All My Love)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I said that these chapters would be slow, I meant it. I'm going through a lot of stuff so sometimes this fic falls through the cracks, but I'm trying my best I do promise you that. 
> 
> The chapter title is from All My Love by Conor Maynard. It's track four on the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/all4spite/playlist/521thWY2zTb50FrIGC9UAR?si=lw83chmhSciq0ttlYXS8Mg) for this fic. I feel like I should mention somewhere that I made the playlists months ago when I finished All Is Fair In Love and first started on this, which is why the songs aren't Really Recent. Anyways, I hope you guys like the chapter!

After a few days, Peter began to realise that everything became just a little bit easier if he forced himself into a state of numbness. If he made his mind a blank canvas, ensuring that he wasn’t ever thinking about anything in particular, then he could avoid the thoughts that were making this hard for him. It was easier to shut himself off than it was to feel everything all at once. If he ignored the fact that two of the most important people in his life had suddenly disappeared, then it was almost like things could go back to normal. He kept his brain occupied with useless nothings so that he could at least function.

 

He threw himself into other things instead. He was focusing far more on Spider-Man than anything else. By putting on a mask and becoming someone else he could avoid his own problems, his own feelings, and get lost in helping people. No one cared who was under the mask, just that there was someone looking out for them, and Peter was more than happy to fill that void. He didn’t have to worry about being Peter anymore when he could be everyone’s Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man. At least, that’s what he’d heard people call him. It was what people on the street called him when he helped pull kittens from trees and save kids from bullies. It was what news anchors called him in the lead up to stories of him saving convenience stores from being robbed and women from being assaulted. Right now, he didn’t care about being anything else.

 

For Peter, this was his way out. He couldn’t see just how dangerous it was to cut himself off like this. It wasn’t healthy, but his health wasn’t something that he thought about anymore. He was always so emotionally drained by the end of the day that for him it made sense to put himself in situations where he would end up physically drained as well. Surely it would all be worth it somehow. It was a way to even everything out. Maybe it’d make it easier for him to actually sleep at night. He didn’t know that the longer he turned away his feelings, the worse they would be when he finally let them back in. Peter didn’t even realise when he started shutting people out. He didn’t register when he stopped talking to May, or that he hadn’t seen Felicia in weeks. All of it was becoming a big blur instead.

 

***

 

“You’re home late.”

 

Peter paused on his way to the staircase. He looked over to find May quietly sitting at the kitchen table. There weren’t any lights on which must have been why he didn’t notice her at first. He had no idea why she was waiting up for him. It wasn’t something she’d done in a while at least. He didn’t think that she had a reason to worry. He was productive now. He wasn’t comatose in his room with grief, he was out there working hard. Surely that would be reassurance enough for her. At least, that’s what he’d thought.

 

May stood, made her way over to the light switch and turned it on. Peter flinched at the sudden light in the room. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, as was often the case when he was out being a superhero. She walked over to him, stopping just far enough from him that he could truly tell just how tired she was.

 

“Whatever it is that you’re doing out there,” she said, not taking her eyes off him. “Are you safe?”

 

Now Peter knew that he had been wrong about her being reassured by his comings and goings. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her more concerned for him in his life. He nodded. “It’s - I’m very safe. I promise.”

 

She sighed, reached up and wiped something off his cheek. Probably some dirt. He’d been out on the industrial side of town earlier, keeping an eye out for anything illegal. It could be pretty grotty over there.

 

“You didn’t have to wait up for me.”

 

She looked at him for a long time. He wondered what she trying to see because he was sure she was assessing him somehow. The longer she looked at him, the more he was finding himself to be on edge. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Peter,” she replied.

 

He had no idea what to say to that. He wasn’t even sure exactly what she meant.

 

“It’ll be so much worse for you later if you keep up like this.”

 

The worst part was that he could tell she was being incredibly serious. He felt the thoughts start to come back to him, banging on the walls he’d been so carefully putting up over the last few weeks.

 

“You should be running in the other direction.”

 

Peter swallowed hard. Was she - was she trying to tell him to follow …? No, she couldn’t have been. Why would she? She didn’t know about any of that. She didn’t know about the soulmate thing. She couldn’t have. Could she?

 

May patted his shoulder gently. “Get some sleep, Peter,” she said before disappearing from the room.

 

***

 

He’d taken to spending his days on rooftops. Maybe he shouldn’t be as visible as he was, but he was sure that most people didn’t bother looking up as they were going about their day. Or if they did, that there might have been some level of reassurance in just knowing that he was around, watching and waiting to help. It was calming, up high with the wind in his ears. It was like he could see the whole city. He preferred it that way, especially when the sun was starting to dip towards the horizon. It was probably one of the few good things left in this world.  

 

“You’re really making a habit of this, Peter.”

 

Peter startled at the sound of Felicia’s voice, and was very lucky that he didn’t start tumbling off the edge of the building.

 

“How did you know I was up here?” he asked, he gazed around the rooftop absently, part of him worried because she’d called him by his name, but of course there was no one else up here, no one to hear them.

 

“Oscorp has 24 hour security. You of all people should know that.”

 

_Oscorp?_

 

“Yes, Oscorp,” she was smirking now and he wondered when she’d gotten so good at reading his mind. She couldn’t even see his face in the mask. “You come here a lot. Didn’t you realise?”

 

He hadn’t. He hadn’t thought about it at all, and now that it was so clearly in his face he couldn’t avoid it. He felt the beginnings of nausea starts to claw at his stomach and he found himself a little grateful that he didn’t eat all that much anymore. If he threw up, at least there wouldn’t be much to come out.

 

Felicia stopped with just enough distance between them that Peter was starting to think she was _wary_ of him. She didn’t look it, but it seemed like she was being cautious. He couldn’t think why. Her face was unreadable, and he found himself desperately wanting to know what she was thinking.

 

“It’s because of Harry,” she said, the words cutting right through him. He wondered if she was trying to get him to roll off this rooftop and plunge to his death. “This was the last place you saw him so you keep coming back here. You two are tethered together so it’s always going to be like that.”

 

He clenched his hands into fists, dug his nails into his palms until he could start to feel them even through the suit. He couldn’t fidget in the suit. He didn’t have loose strands to pull at or anything. This was horrible.

 

“I mean, I might as well offer you a job since you’re here so often. We could probably use someone like you.”

 

He had no idea if she was joking or not.

 

“I’m sure you’d appreciate a steady income. Or do you get that from being Spider-man?”

 

“Don’t mock me,” he said.

 

Felicia looked at him long and hard for what felt like hours. Then she approached him, holding out her hand as if to help him up. “Come with me.”

 

Peter stared at her hand for longer than he should have before letting her help him to his feet. “Won’t people get a little startled seeing Spider-Man walking around?” he asked, there was an edge to his voice, somewhere between sarcastic and angry. He wasn’t sure where he stood on anything anymore.

 

She rolled her eyes at that. “I’m sure most of them have seen far worse. We need to talk, so you need to come inside.”

 

He wondered briefly why he only seemed to see Felicia when they needed to talk. He guessed that it was because he saw her so rarely now, something was bound to happen by the time they saw each other again. Maybe he had to try harder, he did miss her. Peter hoped that whatever they needed to talk about that it wasn’t Harry, he wasn’t sure if he could withstand another conversation about that. Especially after the one with May. He’d been doing so well, forcing everything out. He wanted it to stay like that.

 

To their credit, none of the Oscorp employees seemed phased that Spider-Man was walking amongst them, in step with their boss. In fact, barely any of them looked at him twice, continuing to go about whatever they were doing. It was only really the younger staff members that stared at him. They must have been interns. Part of him wondered if any of them were there through Gwen’s new program. The second the thought entered his mind he wished that he could push it away. As he entered Felicia’s office, a chill fell over him. He wondered if he would ever stop feeling like there was a ghost in the room. A presence that was both there and very much not there all at once.

 

“Take a seat,” Felicia said as the door fell closed behind them.

 

Peter wasn’t sure if he could move, but she pressed a hand against his back and it propelled him forward. “A seat where?”

 

“Wherever, Peter, I don’t have long.”

 

He had no idea what she meant, but she must have been insanely busy. Especially if the new internship program had started. He couldn’t blame her if that was the case.

 

She sighed and gently took a hold of his arm, pulling him across the room and down into the chair behind her desk. Peter couldn’t breathe.

 

“Here of all places?” he muttered. He wasn’t sure if he was insulted or just surprised.

 

Felicia leaned against the table next to him and it hit him all at once just how stressed she really seemed to be. He’d never seen her like this before. She checked her watch quickly and sighed. “I have a meeting,” she started, “but I need you to stay here, because we really do need to talk.”

 

Considering how frazzled she was he was sure that it must have been about something important. He found himself nodding just as someone pushed the door open. He looked up at the girl who entered, she was holding a clipboard tight to her chest. She seemed young, probably fresh out of college, and almost intimidated.

 

“I’m sorry, Felicia, it’s that meeting,” she said, eyes flicking between the two of them quickly.

 

Felicia nodded. “I’ll be out in a minute,” she replied. “Thank you.”

 

The girl smiled faintly before ducking out of the room again.

 

Felicia sighed, ran a hand over her face. It was something that Peter had never seen her do. She locked eyes with him again and he found himself rooted to the spot. “Stay here. Please.”

 

There was no way that he could say no at this point. He had to know if she was ok.

 

“This meeting hopefully won’t be too long,” she added.

 

It wasn’t until Felicia had left the room that Peter realised he absolutely did not want to be alone right now. Not here, at least. He squeezed his eyes shut because he was starting to see hot dogs and he couldn’t be reminded of that, not of any of it. He pulled his mask off, not even thinking, just knowing that he needed more air to breathe and that the mask wasn’t helping with that. It was like he could feel every second passing around him. The room was too quiet but he wasn’t sure how he could fix that. He opened his eyes and spotted Felicia’s laptop on the desk. She’d left it open for whatever reason. He had no idea why she’d need it when she had Oscorp’s state of the art system but maybe she preferred the familiarity of her own. Maybe it was just easier for her to work on. Maybe she had Spotify on it or something that he could pull up just to fill the room with some kind of noise.

 

Peter pulled the laptop towards him. He tapped the mousepad and it sprung to life. He had no idea how it had remained unlocked but he was grateful for it. There was no way he’d be able to decipher what Felicia’s password would be. He scanned the desktop. It was pretty clean, there weren't a lot of icons. Peter’s eyes locked onto Skype and for some reason he found himself clicking on it. He had no idea what he was doing at this point. His hands were just working of their own accord. He scrolled through her contacts, part of him aware of what he was looking for but not willing to admit it to himself. There were a lot of names, business contacts that she must have needed for her job. It made sense. When Peter came across a number that was familiar to him he felt his heart start to speed up in his chest. That wasn’t something it had done in a while unless prompted by a rush of adrenaline. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel it.

 

He stared hard at the number. It was his Mario Kart high score from when he was a kid. He couldn’t believe that Harry had remembered it after all this time. That he cared enough about it to make it a seemingly inconspicuous Skype username, because of course it would never make sense to anyone that wasn’t the two of them. The cursor was hovering over the ‘call’ button before he could think. God, he just needed to see him, to hear his voice, to know that he was alive. He needed it more than anything in the world. He pressed the call button. The window popped up, notified him that it was dialling. For a split second he wondered what he would do if Harry didn’t pick up, but then he did.

 

“Was the meeting cancelled? Oh.”

 

Peter could see the shock on his face. Of course, Harry was quick to compose himself. He always was. Peter wasn’t sure if he was as lucky. “Hi,” he said, and tried to ignore that his voice was shaky already.

 

“Hi.”

 

Harry looked sick. Maybe not worse, but still awful, and Peter had almost forgotten what that looked like. He was filled with concern immediately. “Come home,” he said, before he could stop himself.

 

Harry sighed, looked away from him. His hair had gotten longer, and it fell in his eyes. “Peter, don’t do this to yourself.”

 

“You’ve always loved it here,” he continued. He didn’t care if he sounded desperate.

 

“It’s the best place in the world.”

 

“Then come home.”

 

He looked up again, and Peter could see how sad he was. How shaken he was by all of this, for just a moment. “I don’t have a home there anymore, Pete.”

 

He didn’t even have to think about his next sentence, it was leaving him on instinct out of his control. “ _I’m_ your home.”

 

For a moment, neither of them said anything, just let the words settle between them. Harry swallowed and then nodded slowly. “You always have been,” he said.

 

“Then why aren’t you here? I don’t understand you.” As the words left him, he realised that they were true. He’d never been a position where he hadn’t understood his best friend before. He’d always known Harry better than he knew himself. At least, he’d thought he had.

 

“Peter, this is hurting you.”

 

Every time Harry said his name it was a relief and a stabbing pain all at once. He was starting to realise what May had meant, and that she was right. Now that he was feeling this again it was so much worse.

 

“You don’t have to understand it,” he continued. “I hurt you very much. I’m hurting you now and that’s what I was trying to avoid.”

 

He scoffed at that. “So you thought you’d just run away from it?”

 

“Peter,” he muttered. Peter wondered if Harry noticed that he flinched this time. He wondered if his name hurt Harry to say as much as it hurt him to hear. “We need space from each other.”

 

Peter could see him trying to make sense of this in his own head. Trying to justify his actions for what he assumed must have been the millionth time. Trying to make excuses. “All we’ve ever had is space from each other.”

 

He wasn’t sure if he’d meant the words to sound harsh, but he could tell that Harry had taken them that way, saw the pain of it flicker in his eyes. Harry took a deep breath, and Peter wasn’t sure if he was happy with the fact that it seemed incredibly shaky. He wasn’t sure if knowing that this hurt him too was enough.

 

When Harry didn’t say anything else he asked him a question, a simple question that had been plaguing him for the last month and a half. “Do you miss me?” he asked.

 

Harry looked back at him and all that Peter could see was the toil this was taking on him. The pain of it all. He hadn’t expected Harry to let go of his composure. He wondered if it was as exhausting for him to keep up as it was for Peter to see it. He took another deep breath, this time it was more shallow and Peter couldn’t help but wonder just how bad his condition was getting. “Everyday,” he muttered. “All the time.”

 

 _Then come home_. It was a selfish thought, and he knew it, but it wasn’t something he could avoid. He needed Harry. He always had, and now that he’d become so painfully aware of it there wasn’t a way he could avoid the thoughts. He could feel them catching up to him, bashing down the walls that he’d so carefully been setting up. He couldn’t cry right now, but he was sure that he was about to. “I think that’s all I needed to hear,” he said, his voice already thick with the tears that were well on their way.

 

Harry didn’t say anything, but he looked just like Peter felt.

 

“Bye, Harry,” he managed, the name almost getting caught in his throat. He didn’t give Harry a chance to respond before ending the call. A part of him waited, staring at the screen to see if he would call back, but he didn’t.

 

Peter pulled his legs up to his chest, curled himself into a ball and wondered how long Felicia would be in her meeting. He didn’t care if she saw him like this, he just needed her. Needed someone who knew him and understood him and cared about him and who could talk him through this. Felicia was the closest thing he had to that right now. He pressed his forehead against his knees, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks now. He sure what that he would be absolutely sobbing in no time. He thought about Gwen, about how much he missed her. He thought about the letter, about Harry, about the guilt that had pushed him away. He wished that he could fix it. That he could trade places with Gwen. That he could bring Harry back to New York. He wished that he’d been stronger. That he’d caught her sooner. That he’d stopped him leaving. He wished for a lot of things that seemed impossible or so far away from him and as everything came crashing down he wished that he hadn’t cut himself off. That he could do better, be better. He wished he could be the person that both Gwen and Harry thought he was, but all he could do right now was cry and think about how he failed everyone instead. He hoped that Felicia would be back soon.


	3. All I Think About Is Where I Went Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself I'd update this by the end of the year. Fortunately, I just managed to make it. I'm genuinely grateful for your patience on this fic. Chapter title is from Want You Back by 5 Seconds of Summer.

“Oh, Peter.”

 

Peter didn’t even look up at her as she entered the room. He’d curled himself up in a ball on the chair where she’d left him. Felicia could hear him crying from where she was standing and the sound of it broke her. She turned quickly, popping her head out of the door and locking eyes with her assistant.

 

“No one comes in here until further notice,” she said.

 

The girl just nodded in response. No questions asked. Bless her.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Felicia pushed through the doors to her office, closing them carefully behind her. She crossed the room, flicking a switch on the desk that automatically closed all the blinds that lined the windows. Peter had taken his mask off and god knew what would happen if some news camera caught sight of him like that. Losing his secret identity wasn’t an option. The result was, of course that the room turned very dark, and that seemed to startled him because he jumped, looking up at her for the first time since she’d entered. There were tears staining his cheeks, his eyes were red and puffy. Felicia had no doubt that he’d probably been crying since she left for the meeting. She nudged him gently, and he shifted in the chair, leaving just enough room for her. She sat down next to him and draped his legs over her lap, allowing him to curl around her instead. She wrapped her arms around him quickly, squeezing just tight enough that his tears started up again because of the comfort of it.

 

“I know,” said muttered, hoping her tone was soothing. The words were heavy in the air between them. She wasn’t sure if they would be of any comfort to him, but he sniffled against her shoulder so maybe they were. She closed her eyes for a moment and just held onto him.

 

When she opened them again she noticed her laptop was sitting closer to them than it had been when she’d left the room. She saw that the Skype app was open. _Oh no_. “Peter, what did you do?” she asked quietly. She already knew the answer.

 

Peter froze up and she wondered if he thought she was going to be angry at him. She wasn’t. “I just -” he faltered, wiped his hands over his eyes and avoided looking at her.

 

Felicia sighed and pressed her face into his hair, trying to comfort him.

 

“I needed to see him,” he muttered. His voice was thick with tears, which slowed down his words. He took a shaky breath and buried his head against her shoulder.

 

He had a hand fisted in her jacket and Felicia gently pried to away, holding onto it instead.

 

“Sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking halfway through the word.

 

“You have nothing to apologise for,” she replied.

 

Peter didn’t say anything else. He sat quietly for a few minutes, working on slowing down his breathing to a normal rate and trying to stop crying. He wiped at his eyes continuously, stopping every tear that managed to escape. He seemed almost frustrated with it now, the movement getting harsher and harsher the more time that passed.

 

Felicia waited. She was sure that he’d have something to say when he was ready to. When he sat up a little straighter, she knew he was starting to build up to it.

 

“Felicia, he looked -” he broke off again, having to take a deep breath because he couldn’t force the words out.

 

“Awful,” she supplied.

 

He just nodded. “I don’t want it to be worse.”

 

Even if she’d tried to help Harry when she did, Felicia still felt guilty for somehow not doing enough. Not talking to him about his condition sooner, not stopping the drinking sooner. She should have been harder on him. Made threats, given him a real reason to want to stop. She supposed from his side of things, he wouldn’t have seen it anyway.

 

“He’s not sleeping,” Peter continued. “He has a tell. When we used to have sleepovers and we’d stay up all night - the next day his left eye would twitch just a little.”

 

Felicia wasn’t sure why, but she smiled at that. Just a little. Peter had close his eyes, focusing instead on what he was saying, so he missed it.

 

“And the bags are worse. He always looks tired but they’re darker and he doesn’t just look tired. He looks sick. So sick, Felicia. His skin is so much paler and there’s marks and his eyes are so much emptier than they used to be and I can feel it - I can … I’m losing him. I know I am.”

 

Her heart broke. She watched as Peter rubbed at his eyes, biting down on his lip and trying not to cry again.

 

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he said.

 

She couldn’t blame him. It was something that had been on her mind as well.

 

“Am I mad at him?” he asked her. “For leaving?”

 

Felicia wasn’t sure what answer he needed to her give. She settled on the truth. “I would be if I were you.”

 

He nodded, ran a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t him, Felicia,” he muttered. “I know he doesn’t see it like that but I was there that night. That night at the clock tower and that - The Goblin … thing - That wasn’t my Harry.”

 

She watched as Peter looked down, a hand resting against his armband, against Harry’s name on his wrist. She could tell that he’d never said those words before, never properly admitted that to himself. He seemed almost embarrassed by it. She had no idea what to say to make this better. She wished she knew where Harry was so she could just send Peter off on a plane after him.

 

It went quiet. After a moment, Peter pulled the armband off. He traced his fingers of Gwen’s name first, the red scar that was left behind. Then over Harry’s. “Why are there two of them, Felicia?” he asked. “Why do I have to lose them both?”

 

Felicia wished she had the answers. It was something that she’d been thinking about. There’d never been a case of someone having more than one soulmate. There didn’t seem to be a need for that to happen. She sighed. “I don’t know, Peter.”

 

“Did Harry tell you when he got his?”

 

“It wasn’t really something he talked about openly,” she admitted. She knew that Harry’s soulmate was Peter. That was pretty easy for her to pick up, as confusing as it was, but she never pushed him for details.

 

Peter nodded, winced. “I guess it would have been hard for him. Considering -” he broke off, his thumb traced over Gwen’s name again. Felicia knew what that meant. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

 

Felicia shifted in the chair they were in, sitting up just a little straighter. “Anything in particular?”

 

“Just - everything.” He paused, ran a hand through his hair. “Felicia, we were eleven when he got his. He must have gone off to boarding school thinking that he’d just come back to me and everything would be fine.”

 

“Peter, that’s not your fault.”

 

He shook his head. “When I got mine I wouldn’t tell him who it was. He must have been so confused.”

 

“The rules,” she reminded. “You couldn’t have even if you wanted to.”

 

“I was the first person he came to see when he got back to New York, Felicia. Did he ever tell you that? Did he ever tell you that the first time he saw me after seven years I kissed someone else? Practically right in front of him? ”

 

She took both of Peter’s hands in hers gently. He was shaking now and she knew that he needed as much comfort as he could get. “You didn’t know, Peter,” she said, being careful to hold his gaze.

 

“All I did was talk about her,” he muttered. “And he let me. I can’t - I can’t imagine how that must have -”

 

“Peter, stop it.”

 

“I deserve this. To lose him. I never earned him in the first pla -”

 

“Don’t you dare.”

 

There was something in her tone. Something almost harsh that held his attention, and almost startled him. He swallowed, squeezed her hands before letting go of one of them. He reached for something on the desk, something that she hadn’t put there. It was a piece of paper. Peter must have brought it with him. She knew what it was before he said anything. “He left me a letter. I’m spiralling but I - I want you to read it.”

 

Felicia took the letter. She slid an arm around him again, pulling him against her side. He buried his head against her shoulder again, breath a little more shallow than she’d like it to be. Her eyes scanned the words in Harry’s neat handwriting. They were exactly what she expected them to be. “Peter, I need to talk to you about something,” she said.

 

“I can’t talk about -”

 

“It’s not about him. Not all of it, at least.”

 

He seemed confused by that. Felicia handed him back the letter carefully. He started down at it for a while before folding it up again and placing it back on the desk.

 

Felicia sighed and rolled up the sleeve of her jacket. “I’ll break the rules this once to make a point.”

 

She could feel Peter’s eyes on her. She was sure that he’d have no idea where this was going. Felicia pulled the black armband from her wrist, revealing what had been the name of her soulmate. Now it was just faded almost white scar tissue. It was practically impossible to read the name.

 

Peter took hold of her wrist gently, looking down it. “I didn’t know that you lost them,” he whispered, as if speaking at a normal level would make this moment worse.

 

This wasn’t a story that she’d told anyone. It was something that she’d lived through and had to contain. The rules stated that she couldn’t talk about her soulmate until they found each other. She never got that chance. “I was younger than Harry when I got mine,” she started. “I was eight and I wanted to tell my mum about it so badly but -”

 

“The rules.” He almost laughed at that. “I know what you mean.”

 

Felicia nodded. “Two weeks after it appeared, I woke up one day. It was a Saturday. I’ll never forget it. It was dreary and raining. Had been for weeks. I could hear the rain outside my bedroom window. I checked my wrist, because I’d checked it everyday. Every morning and every night before I went to sleep, just to look at it. That morning for the first time it looked like this.”

 

She watched as the meaning of the words dawned on Peter. It was even more painful than she expected.

 

“Sometimes when it’s rained for a while and the roads are more hazardous, a freakish accident will happen. They’re not as rare as you’d think they would be.” Felicia paused and took a deep breath. She knew that Peter could already tell what she was going to say next. “Her family got caught in one. None of them made it.”

 

“Felicia, I’m sorry.”

 

She shook her head. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, Peter.”

 

“Then why are you telling me this?”

 

She wasn’t sure if she knew. She’d had a point. Maybe she’d lost it somewhere. “I just want you to know how lucky you are, to be loved like you are.”

 

Peter looked at her for a moment. She could see the cogs turning in his brain but had no idea what he was thinking. He looked down at her wrist, placed his next to it so their scars were lined up together. “I think you’re telling me to follow him,” he said, breaking the silence that had formed between them. With those words, a weight seemed to be lifted. The air in the room was lighter, no longer suffocating them with what couldn’t be spoken.

 

***

 

The hardest part of this was going to be telling May that he was leaving. Especially considering he had no idea when that was yet, or where he’d be going when he did. He was starting to realise that even though he’d already lost Harry twice, so had May. That she’d almost lost him as well. He needed to do better than that. While he tried to figure out when the right time to talk to her about this would be, he involved himself more in her life. Visited her at work, brought her lunch, helped make dinner. Anything he could do to show her how sorry he was. How grateful for her he was. How much she meant to him. He had no intention of leaving _forever_ , but he knew that convincing Harry to come back would him would be a marathon within itself. It was something that would take time. He had no idea how much time, but he wished things were easier.

 

He could tell that May had picked up on something. That she knew he had something to tell her, to ask her about. She’d always known him better than he knew himself. Sometimes he thought about asking her if she’d known about Harry. Or rather, how _long_ she’d known about him, but it wasn’t a conversation he could bring himself to have with her. At least, not one that he could have with her yet. He was sure that one day his curiosity would win out over any trepidation he felt towards it.

 

“Theoretically,” he muttered one day, as he was helping her make dinner. He saw her look up at him out of the corner of his eyes and realised that this would be so much harder to ask her now. “What would you say if I told you I wanted to go travelling for a bit?”

 

She didn’t so much as pause in what she was doing. Of course she knew that this was coming. “Travelling where?” she asked.

 

Peter stopped cutting the tomato he was working his way through, worried that he’d accidentally cut a finger off. “I don’t know,” he explained. “I just know that it’s important.”

 

May hummed and Peter thought that would be the end of it. What she said next made him grateful that he’d put the knife down. “Took you long enough to decide to follow him.”

 

Of course she picked up on the underlying meaning to his words. Of course she knew exactly what he was planning to do. He shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was. He could tell that she knew that as well.

 

“It’s ok, Peter.”

 

He didn’t have any words to explain himself. He wasn’t sure if he’d need them.

 

May sighed. She reached over and pulled him into an easy hug. Peter hugged her back without hesitation. He buried his head against her should and tried to fight off the urge to cry again. He’d been getting better at that. “Just bring him home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to continue to make no promises about updates for this, but until then I hope you're all enjoying the holiday season, and I wish you all a Happy New Year!
> 
> You can find me over at [potter-awakening](http://www.potter-awakening.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.


	4. I'm An Addict To What I Can't Ever Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took me ... so long. I've been staring at it long enough that it's almost starting to drive me a little crazy. I'm relieved to finally get it out to you all. The title is from Drive by Gretta Ray because that line just sits so well with these two. If you're still sticking around, I sincerely thank you.

“I heard you spoke to Peter,” she said, as the sun slowly set behind her. It had been two days since Peter had taken her laptop and used it to call Harry. Two days since she’d had to help pull Peter through a breakdown and get him back to May’s in one piece. Harry hadn’t called her since and the concern had been starting to eat at her, so she’d made sure to call him. Felicia watched as Harry dragged a hand across his eyes, noting the rash that was staining his skin. She sighed. He looked up at her, eyes glazed over. Most of the time he felt barely there. No wonder Peter felt like he was losing him.

 

“You heard that, did you?” Even in a state of exhaustion, his words still had that same sarcastic edge. She could almost roll her eyes at the familiarity of it. “Did a little spider tell you?”

 

There was a small spark in his eyes that told her he’d found that funny. She had far too much on her mind to pay attention to any kind of joke right now. “Have you been drinking?”

 

He stared up at the ceiling, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, Felicia, I haven’t been  _ drinking _ .”

 

“Have you been drinking water?” she pressed.

 

“Here and there.”

 

“You’re dehydrated, Harry.”

 

“Am I?”

 

She probably could have hit her head against the table. Even so, she wasn’t sure if she had it in her to be angry at him. He was an idiot, but he was smart enough to figure that out for himself. The fact that it was most likely a conscious decision made it worse. “You’re rotting away,” she reminded.

 

He sighed, waved a hand dismissively. “That’s the plan.”

 

Felicia couldn’t believe they were having this conversation again. She wasn’t sure how to prove to him that he was better off alive. That he needed to be alive. That  _ she  _ needed him to be alive. She paused and took a deep breath, waiting for him to make the next move. Eventually, he met her eyes again. She couldn’t tell if he knew what she was thinking, wasn’t sure if it mattered. 

 

“Let’s talk about you. How are your parents?”   
  


“They’re fine.” If she sounded blunt she didn’t care. He was just trying to change the topic and they both knew that. “You could be closer to them than I am and I’d have no way of knowing.”

 

The corner of his mouth quirked up just enough to be considered a smile. “I could be.”

 

“Get some water or I’m ending this call.” 

 

“Are you like her? Your mother?”

 

“What?”

 

He shrugged. “You certainly act like one.”

 

This time, she couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. It was times like these that she had to remind herself that Harry hadn’t had much of a childhood. That he’d been in a position that forced him to grow up too quickly. It must have been why he got like this sometimes. She couldn’t quite fight off the urge to tell him, “That’s because you’re acting like a child.” 

 

When his eyes met hers, he did seem a little guilty. She could see a thought dawning on him, a question that he needed to ask. “How’s May?”

 

He seemed genuinely concerned for the first time since he’d answered. Just about as concerned as he was whenever he asked about Peter. Somehow it warmed her heart just a little. Of course, it reminded her that May was the closest person to a parental guardian that he’d actually had. “She’s ok,” she answered, not quite willing to give him more than that yet. 

 

Harry nodded. “I guess that’s all the response I earned.”

 

“Drink some water and maybe I’ll tell you more.”

 

There was that almost-smile again. “You’re getting good at this. Bribing me into things. What are you going to do next? Bribe me into telling you where I went?”

 

She shrugged, but stayed quiet. She felt that he knew more than he was letting on. There was something playing behind his eyes. Felicia wondered if there was a part of him that wanted to be found. That maybe this was his way of dropping hints. Maybe he regretted leaving as much as she regretted letting him. If he was waiting for a response, she didn’t give him one. 

 

After a moment, he sighed. “Alright, you win,” he said, standing. She could tell that the action took a lot more effort than he wanted it to. Even so, he pushed through. “I’ll get some water, but only because I wanna hear about my family.”

 

It was a slip of the tongue that he barely seemed to notice, but it made Felicia smile anyway. Even with everything that had happened, he still considered May his family. There was something so bittersweet about that. As she waited until he got back, her eyes scanned the small square of the room that the camera gave her. There wasn’t anything remarkable about the space. It looked like an even more barren version of his apartment here in New York. Plain white walls, lingering sense of emptiness. There wasn’t any art on the walls, or anything distinguishing the place as being lived in. If anything, it looked more like a hospital. She couldn’t help but think that he must have absolutely hated it, even more so than his apartment. She had no idea why he’d emulate something like that, didn’t want to think too far into it.

 

When Harry returned he was holding a glass of water which he tried to scarf down in front of her, but instead ended up almost choking on instead. That didn’t make Felicia feel any better about his deteriorating health. Especially considering that it was a good indication that he hadn’t had anything to drink in at least a day. Possibly since they last spoke, or rather he last spoke to Peter. She really didn’t want to think about how bad it would get if she hadn’t bothered calling. If she  _ didn’t  _ nag him in the way that she did. 

 

“Better?” she asked. 

 

He coughed and placed the glass down on the desk. “How’s May?”

 

Felicia wondered if this feeling of helplessness would ever fade. It had become such a constant that it was starting to feel like second nature, even if it made her just as uneasy as ever. She pushed the thoughts to the side and opted to answer his question. 

 

***

 

It seemed that Peter had a way with unhealthy coping mechanisms. Somehow, everyday he seemed to notice it more and more. Everyday Harry was slipping further and further away from him. He could feel it. Instead of dealing with in it any sort of way he’d started reading the letters that Harry had sent him. He’d kept them, every single one, because of course he had. They hurt him so much more to read now, knowing everything that he knew. Knowing that his name had been on Harry’s wrist this whole time. He could see the hope in the letters in a new light. The way that Harry had clung to him so tightly, as if Peter was the only thing to stay alive for, ripped his heart to shreds. It was starting to make him genuinely nauseous. He’d spoken to Felicia about it and she’d told him that he needed to stop reading them. That they were only doing more harm than good. He knew that she was right, but he could practically recite them at this stage. He didn’t need the letters in his hands, the words would just pop into his head unprompted. 

 

He just wished that he could reach him. That it would somehow work. Sometimes he wished that he could just shake Harry by the shoulders and force him to see how painful this was for the both of them. That whatever his plan had been wasn’t working. That he needed to come home. That most days Peter felt like he was dying too. It just wasn’t something he could do from here, miles away and through a laptop screen. Not that he was brave enough to hijack Felicia’s laptop again. At least he’d been able to write Harry letters while he was at boarding school. Now he didn’t even have that. 

 

***

 

It was getting to the point that sometimes they would barely say anything to each other. Felicia would call him, and Harry would answer, but they didn’t really exchange words. She didn’t need to ask him how he was feeling anymore. She could tell just by taking one look at him. At the way his hands shook while he rubbed at his sunken eyes, and the sheer lack of life in him. Felicia knew that she was starting to run out of time. That she needed to send Peter after him. Soon. The problem was that even if they figured out where he was, she had no idea how they were going to save him. She didn’t even know if he  _ could  _ be saved. All she knew was that she couldn’t lose him. She hadn’t even figured out how to tell him that. Sometimes she wondered if he already knew. 

 

In the meantime, she had to turn her attention to something else. A factor of his condition that they never really spoke about. “How’s your memory?” she asked.

 

Harry shook his head. The action was a lot slower than it usually was. “What do you mean?”

 

Felicia wasn’t entirely sure how to talk about this. How to ask about it. She just knew that she had to. “Have you lost any hours recently?”She watched him process the question. It took him far too long to put the pieces together. She couldn’t help but make a mental note of that under the ‘side effects of Harry’s condition?’ folder in her brain. 

 

“Would it matter if I had? I can’t hurt anyone here. Just … myself …”

 

Her heart shuddered. She was struck immediately by the casualness of the statement. By the way his eyes left hers as if he was ashamed of something. The only thing she could feel was utter horror. She hated that she had to ask, “And have you?”

 

He sighed, dragged a hand through his hair slowly. “No, I’m not suicidal.”

 

If that was supposed to make her feel better, it didn’t. In fact, it almost made her feel worse. 

 

“If I’ve done anything, I can’t remember it,” he continued. “I guess that’s the whole thing.”

 

Felicia nodded but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t find the words. 

 

Harry looked down again. He tapped his fingers against his desk for a moment, taking a shallow breath and then met her eyes. “You’re worried about me,” he said.

 

“Harry, I’ve been worried about you this whole time.” She wondered how many times she’d have to tell him before it started to matter. Or if it ever would. 

 

He nodded, slowly again. “How’s Peter?” he asked.

 

He was winching already, as if just asking the question was enough to hurt him. She had no way to lessen the blow of what the truth was. “Sick.”

 

He flinched. “What?”

 

“You’re sick, and now so is he.”

 

Harry closed his eyes and the two of them just sat in the moment where he tried to process that. Felicia could tell just how much it had hurt him. In his eyes, he’d done everything to prevent Peter from having to feel that, and yet it hadn’t worked. 

 

“Forcing yourself away doesn’t stop him from feeling you,” she explained. 

 

He clenched his hand into a fist and Felicia thought that he was going to slam it down on the desk, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have the strength to hold his anger anymore. He dropped his head into his hands and groaned instead. 

 

The sight of it broke her, as it always did. 

 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he muttered, voice slightly muffled by his hands. “None of it.”

 

She took a deep breath. Watching Harry tear himself apart wasn’t her favourite pastime. There was a question that she’d never dared to ask him, but she was finding that she needed the answer now more than ever. “If you could have it your way, what would that look like? Even if you still went to boarding school. What would happen after that?”

 

Harry looked up at her. His eyes were red and she hadn’t been expecting that. He sniffled, rubbed a hand over his eyes and then met hers. “I just wanted to come back and have him be there,” he said. “That’s all I wanted.”

 

She nodded. 

 

***

 

There was no doubt in Peter’s mind that Aunt may knew absolutely everything. She could sense everything that he was feeling. She could see it in his eyes, in the way his posture had gotten so much worse over the past few months with the sheer weight of everything on his shoulders. He felt like he’d aged more in the last few months that he had in his entire lifetime. He felt ancient, the grief must have been killing him too. He wished that he could talk to her about it, but he could never find the words. Their conversations didn’t have all that much substance anymore. It was mainly smalltalk, or Peter asking her about her life. About her job. Deflecting as much as he could because he really didn’t want her to ask about him. He knew she could sense that too. The more time that passed, the more he tried to pay attention, the more he could tell that this was hurting her too. That seeing him like this was a torture for her within itself. Peter wished that he could do anything that would change that. So far, he had no idea what that could be. 

 

He was helping May wash the dishes when she decided to bring it up. He hadn’t had a way to prepare for the conversation so when she spoke, he dropped a plate. It shattered to the floor in a million pieces and for a split second he just stared at it. Somehow, that was exactly how he felt. 

 

May sighed, but before she could started cleaning it up herself he dropped to the floor, picking up all the tiny little ceramic pieces, even though his hands were shaking. “When your Uncle Ben died, I felt it too,” she continued. As soon as Peter stood up, she ushered him into a chair at the kitchen table. He all but collapsed into it. May took his hands gently in hers. 

 

Peter wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear this. He wasn’t sure if he could. They’d never really talked about his Uncle’s death. Not like this. 

 

“I can tell that it’s worse for you than it was for me,” she said. “Ben’s death was instant. This isn’t like that.”

 

_ Oh _ . It didn’t seem fair to say that this was worse. It was different sure, but he’d seen the way May suffered through losing her husband. There was no way that had hurt less than this. He swallowed, there were tears threatening him and he really didn’t want to break. May squeezed his hands gently and that seemed to help set him off. “It doesn’t stop,” he muttered. “It just hurts all the time.”

 

She nodded. “You’ve already been through so much, Peter.”

 

That was her way of saying that this wasn’t fair. None of it. Peter couldn’t help but agree. He hated the thought, but somehow losing Gwen hurt less than this. And that had almost killed him. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of more ways to express what he was feeling. 

 

“I know,” May said. 

 

He looked up at her, and immediately believed her. Whatever he’d tried to think of. However he was going to word the fact that Harry was fading away from him at a faster rate than he could handle, she already knew.

 

“Does it ever stop?” he asked. There was a plea in his voice. Something that wouldn’t have been there a few months ago. Something that only existed whenever Harry was torn away from him. 

 

Her eyes turned incredibly sad, and that was all the answer that he needed.

 

***

 

“Is that plant new?” Felicia asked. 

 

Harry looked behind him as if he didn’t know what she was referring to. When his eyes landed on the tall plant, he nodded. “Yeah. You - you said it was too empty in here so I tried adding something.”

 

She smiled. Just the fact that he’d cared enough about her opinion to do that was sweet. Maybe he missed her. “It’s nice.”

 

He shrugged. “Yeah. It’s alright”

 

“It’s almost strange how much they brightens the room.” The plant was comprised of thick brown stems. The flowers weren’t quite flowers. It looked like there was a pinecone in the middle, which was surrounded by strands that were a weird mix of purple and white. It was tall enough that it almost didn’t fit in the frame. She wasn’t a botanist, didn’t know much about plants at all, but Felicia thought this would be something she’d recognise if she’d ever seen it before. 

 

Harry pulled a hand through his hair. “It’s not really a house plant, so I’m not technically supposed to have it. I think it’s kind of endangered. Only grows in certain climates or whatever. What’s it called again? Some kind of Holly. Sea Star Holly, I think.”

 

A light bulb went off in her brain. That sounded awfully specific. She wondered why he was telling her all of that. Felicia quickly grabbed her phone and jotted it down. That might be something of use to her later. 

 

“More business emails?” he asked. 

 

She wasn’t sure if she was imagining the suspicion in his voice or not. “There’s too many,” she replied anyway, putting her phone back down.

 

He smiled, which must have meant that he’d bought her small lie. Maybe sometimes he was more gullible than he should have been. “It gets like that.”

 

There was something in Harry’s eyes. More longing than usual, almost wistful. “Do you miss it?” she asked.

  
“Miss what?”

 

He knew exactly what she meant. The way he was glancing away from her to mask it told her that. “Your company.”

 

He looked down, twisted his hands together. Somehow, that was all the answer that she needed. “It’s your company, Felicia.”

 

Not really. She was caretaking at best. Watching over the place to make sure that things continued to run the way that he’d want them to. “It’s in your name,” she reminded.  

 

“My father’s name. I guess.” He paused for a moment. Pulled at the sleeve of his shirt. “I miss the routine of it sometimes. Working. Weirdly enough. Having something to do, even if it was too much. I miss that.”

 

“There’d always be a place for you if you decided to come back.”

 

He laughed, sort of. As much as he could. The sound of it made Felicia smile. It had been too long since she’d heard it. “Nice try.”

 

Their conversation didn’t last much longer. At this stage it didn’t take much for Harry to be entirely drained of energy. He hated to admit it, but Felicia always caught on right away. As soon as they said their goodbyes she was already pulling up her browser, already typing in the name of that plant. It came up pretty easily. It was incredibly specific, not quite endangered like he’d said, but it was nearly threatened. She really didn’t expect Harry to know anything about plants. Even now, he never ceased to surprise her. It could only grow in full sun, which definitely meant that Harry’s would probably die in no time. Unless he had somewhere he could move it to. Sunlight wasn’t something that he seemed to be getting much exposure to lately. It honestly seemed the opposite. She pushed those thoughts to the side, focusing again on the plant. Considering it’s status, and the fact that it could only survive at a certain altitude, that helped narrow down the list of countries that she needed to be focusing on. The ones that Harry could have escaped to. 

 

The next thing she did wasn’t really illegal, just a little disingenuous. Technically she still had access to a lot of Harry’s files. They were all still on the system and even though they were heavily encrypted, being the CEO she had access to everything. Including a list of estates under the Osborn name. She knew that Harry wasn’t stupid enough to list anything under his own name so she started with his father’s first. Norman Osborn still had an insane amount of properties to his name, despite not even existing anymore. Felicia cross-referenced those with the six or so countries she had, but couldn’t find a match. She paused for a moment, sighing. She was trying to make sense of Harry’s thought process. Considering how erratic he’d been before he left, he could have gone anywhere, listed under any name. She tried Peter’s name next anyway, even his middle name. Still nothing. Felicia slowly traced back through the Osborn name, even using Harry’s middle name at one point. She knew how much he hated it, so she wouldn’t have been too surprised if he’d listed something under that. But he hadn’t. 

 

Felicia sighed, leaning back in her chair. She gazed up at the ceiling, just hoping for some sort of breakthrough. When nothing came from that she was starting to doubt all of this. She thought again of Harry, of how sometimes there was that little spark in his eyes that almost made it seem like he regretted leaving. If that was his way of trying to tell her he wanted to be found, then she’d make it happen. 

 

Glancing at the large stack of files on her desk, she was forced to remember that she  _ was  _ supposed to be working. When Felicia looked at the clock she couldn’t help but curse at just how much time she was spending on this. It was getting late now, but part of her really didn’t care. This was far more important. There had to be something that she was missing. Something that Harry would use to mask himself from practically everyone. Or at least, everyone but her. If that had even been his intention. She tapped her fingers against the edge of her desk, trying to think so hard that it was almost starting to physically hurt her. Maybe it wasn’t something connected to the Osborn name. Maybe it was connected to another one. The keyboard clicked as she typed something aimlessly. Everything was worth a try. 

 

Felicia gazed at the screen. Her eyes flicked between the name, and the list of countries. Then back again. Was it really a match? She stared for a moment longer, blinking more than necessary as if the words would magically disappear if she looked hard enough. She couldn’t believe that Harry had used his mother’s maiden name for this. It made sense. No one would ever think of it. She slammed her laptop closed, already reaching for her bag. The stack of files was the furthest thing on her mind at the moment. She’d deal with them later. Tomorrow. Or the next day. Whenever they started to matter again. Felicia felt as if she was barely registering the car that she was driving, the roads that she was on. That was more than dangerous, but as she pulled up outside of Peter’s house she barely gave it any thought. It was far too late for her to be doing this, but as she bolted up to the Parker’s front door and pressed the doorbell she thought that she’d be forgiven. When Peter wrenched the door open, looking practically as bad as Harry did on a good day, she couldn’t contain herself. 

 

“I found him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions, rants, expressions of emotion, etc., feel free to reach me over on [my Tumblr](http://www.potter-awakening.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Until next time, I hope you all have a good day :)


	5. Can You Still Show Me A Life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! This only took me ... four months. Truly, there's nothing I admire more than your patience. Title is from 'What Can I Do If The Fire Goes Out?' by Gang of Youths which, if you haven't heard, I 100% recommend.

“What do you mean you found him?”

 

Felicia could tell that she’d knocked his entire world out of balance. Peter had grabbed onto the door frame as if he were about to pass out. Just looking at him, she was sure he probably was. God, he looked awful. She was forcing her way into the house immediately, holding onto him so that he didn’t fall over. 

 

“If this is a joke, Felicia. I -” his voice cracked and she could already hear the tears starting to catch up to him. He wanted it to be real. 

 

She was so glad that it was. Felicia squeezed Peter’s arm gently. She pushed the door closed behind her and just looked at him for a moment. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this,” she said. 

 

He nodded. He was turning white and she knew that she needed to get him into a seat before his legs collapsed out from under him. She gently tugged him into the living room. May smiled at her in greeting, but it fell as soon as she saw the state that Peter was in. Felicia managed to push him down into the couch before plonking down next to him. He was starting to shake now. May immediately moved to his other side, resting against the arm of the couch and rubbing circles into his shoulder to try and help. Peter’s eyes looked far off. Felicia squeezed his arm again to get his attention. 

 

“He’s in Switzerland,” she said, trying to make her voice sound softer than usual. She watched the words settle in his brain. His eyebrows pulled together.

 

“What? Why?”

 

She shook her head. “I’m not sure, Peter. Not yet, at least.”

 

He ran a hand through his hair, tugged at the ends. “He never - he’s never mentioned Switzerland,” he muttered. “Are you sure?”

 

Felicia nodded. “Completely certain.” 

 

Peter sat there, entirely still. The room was deathly silent as he looked down at the ground. Felicia could see the cogs turning slowly in his brain, trying to find a meaning. A reason. Trying to put all the pieces together.  At one point, he reached for Felicia’s hand and she took his without a second thought, holding tight for dear life. After what felt like a long moment, he spoke. “I wouldn’t - I wouldn’t think to look there,” he said.

 

“That might have been the point.”  _ It was definitely the point _ , she thought.

 

He nodded, very slowly. Still trying to process what was happening. Felicia ghosted her thumb over the back of his hand gently, and he almost smiled. “You’re sure?” he asked again, locking eyes with her.

 

“I’m sure, Peter.”

 

Peter turned very slowly to his aunt. “May, I need to -”

 

“Go,” she cut him off. There was a fierceness to her gaze that Felicia had never seen before. Somehow it was incredibly fitting that Peter got his determination from her. 

 

“I need a minute.” 

 

May gave him a curt nod. Something passed between them, an understanding. Then Peter was standing, pulling Felicia up with him as he still had hold of her hand. She didn’t mention it, just followed him towards his room. Peter let go when she closed the door carefully behind them. Then he all but fell onto his bed, perching on the edge as if he couldn’t quite settle. 

 

Felicia glanced around the room. She’d never been in his room before, but somehow it was exactly how she expected it to be. Everything in it just screamed Peter Parker. Especially the battered up Spyro poster that was taped to one wall, and taped together it seemed. At the very least, it made her smile. When Peter took a shaky breath, his head buried in his hands, Felicia quickly sat next to him. She rested a hand against his shoulder, and considered tracing the circles that she’d seen May do moments before. 

 

He looked up at her. “What do I do now?”

 

_ Go to him _ . “Do what you said. Take a minute.”

 

Peter nodded, eyes shining in the soft yellow light. He leaned into her touch just a little. 

 

She wished she could read his mind, but she could be patient. He wasn’t one to stay quiet for long. 

 

“I’ve never been to another country before,” he said. He sniffled and wiped at his eyes, jaw tight. 

 

If only she wasn’t as familiar with him crying as she was. “It’s a different experience,” she admitted.

 

“Do you ever miss home?”

 

She nodded. “Sometimes, but I have two homes and that’s ok.”

 

That made him smile, just a little. “I don’t think I can count how many homes -” he paused, sucked in a breath, “Harry’s had.”

 

Hopefully saying his name wouldn’t always be this hard for him. She wanted that more than anything. “I don’t think he could count them either.”

 

Peter jolted next to her, sitting up straight. “Felicia, I don’t have a passport,” he muttered, and she could tell it had just occurred to him that he’d need one. He looked over at her, and there was that pain in his eyes again.

 

Felicia couldn’t stand it. “I’ll fix that for you,” she said.

 

“It’ll take ages.”

 

She almost rolled her eyes. “Not for me.” The relief on his face was worth whatever loopholes she’d have to jump through for that to be the truth.

 

He nodded. “Do you think he’ll be mad?”

 

“He couldn’t be mad at you.”

 

He swallowed, looked down and pulled at a loose strand of the sweater he was wearing. 

 

“He loves you, Peter.”

 

“I love him too.” Peter’s eyes widened. Felicia bit down on her lip so that she didn’t smile. It was sweet seeing him finally admit it. “Do you think he knows that?”

 

_ He better. _ “I think he wants to. At the very least.”

 

“I should tell him, shouldn’t I? Properly. With actual words.”

 

“I think that would be best.”

 

Peter knotted his hands together. “I don’t - How long does it take to get to Switzerland?”

 

This time she couldn’t fight off her smile. “Long enough for you to work out what to say,” she said.

 

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” 

 

It went quiet. After a moment, Peter leaned into her a little more and Felicia wrapped an arm around him easily. He seemed to be calming down again, his breathing steadying out. 

 

“There’s a problem,” he muttered, running a hand over his face. 

 

Felicia thought that this must have been tiring him out. “We’ll fix whatever problems there are. I promise.”

 

Peter shook his head. “If I’m in Switzerland then Spider-Man is too. New York needs him.”

 

She squeezed his shoulder. Trust Peter to be worried about the fate of the city right now. Felicia pulled away and looked at him. “This isn’t about what Spider-Man needs. This is about what Peter Parker needs.”

 

He just looked at her. Felicia could tell that was hard for him to hear. He’d spent the last few months trying to avoid everything that Peter Parker needed. That was obvious just by looking at him. “When should I start packing?”

 

***

 

It was too quiet here. Too still. If he hadn’t been on edge already, it wouldn’t have taken Peter long to get there. He kept up a steady pace, eyes on the ground and hands deep in his pockets. It was pretty hot today. Too hot for a hoodie, but it was rare to see him without one on these days. The soft breeze tousled his hair as he weaved his way towards his destination. He’d picked a good time to do this. Middle of the day. Middle of the week. No chance of running into her family. He needed to be alone for this. He had so much to tell her. 

 

“I can’t go anywhere without seeing you first,” Peter muttered into the empty air around him. He stared down at the headstone, Gwen’s name shining back at him. The sunlight seemed to always do her favours. No matter what. He took a deep breath and dropped to the ground in front of her. He hadn’t come here nearly enough. He was aware of that, but she’d been in his thoughts every day. He hoped she knew, wherever she was now. 

 

“I wanted to show you something,” he said, shuffling in his pockets for a moment. He pulled out his phone, quickly unlocking it and pulling up a photo. He held it out as if to show it to Gwen. “These are your kids. Or at least, the first bunch. Your interns. Felicia sent this to me. I don’t … know as much as I should, but uh - she says they’re all doing well. Showing promise. I mean, they better be since they have to live up to your name.”

 

He paused, dropped his phone again. He looked down at the photo. “I recognise a few faces. From school. From the hallways or whatever, I guess. Some of them are from Midtown. That’s the deal.” He glanced up at her. “I just thought you’d want to know, but you’d also tell me that I’m skirting around the point and I am. I’m - I’m too scared to ask you.”

 

Peter dropped his head into his hands for a moment, to regain his composure. “I need to know that you’re ok with it,” he said. He was incredibly aware that he was using the present tense. As if Gwen was still with him and could still have an opinion on all of this. “I don’t know if you knew. I don’t think - Harry  - would have talked about it, but if you did - with everything that happened … would you want this for me?”

 

He wasn’t sure how to explain that just the thought of her not being ok with it, that maybe Gwen would see this as a betrayal had started to haunt him over the past few days. As soon the instant shock had worn off, that’s what his brain had turned to. 

 

“I love you, Gwen. I always did. I always will, but he’s my best friend and I - I need him. Is it ok to chase that?”

 

He shouldn’t have been asking so many questions. Especially when he knew he wasn’t going to get any answers, but maybe talking through it all would help. 

 

“I’m trying to think of what you would say if you were here but I - this isn’t something I ever thought we’d have to deal with. Any of this.” He gestured around him, as if to indicate the whole world, and all the events that had transpired over the last few years. 

 

“I planned a life with you, Gwen, and losing that -” he broke off, not sure how he wanted to word this into the stale air around him. Losing Gwen had meant losing everything, every plan that he’d had for his future had involved her. “I need to find myself again,” he settled on. “Harry … he knows me. That could - he could help me.” 

 

Was that how he was rationalising this now? Was this some weird journey to find himself? “That’s not what I meant. I - “ Peter startled as someone dropped to the ground next to him. He looked up to see Felicia laying a bouquet of flowers against Gwen’s grave.  _ Shit _ ,  _ he’d forgotten flowers _ .

 

“Peter, I didn’t know her as well as you, but I think more than anything she’d want you to be happy. In whatever form that takes,” she said.

 

Sometimes he wondered where Felicia got all her earnesty. It was certainly compelling. He nodded, slowly. Somehow, he felt that she was right. 

 

“I brought you something,” she continued, quickly rifling through her bag. Felicia pulled something out and handed it to him. Peter looked down and as he realised what it was his heart stuttered in his chest. “One passport.”

 

“You do too much for me,” he muttered. He could hear the tears scratch at his throat as he did so. 

 

She shook her head. “An investment in your happiness. Remember?”

 

Peter looked down at it for a moment longer, before burying it under his hoodie, turning his attention back to Gwen.

 

“I booked you a flight for tomorrow,” Felicia said. “I figured you’ve both waited enough.”

 

Peter glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. When all this was over, he had no idea how he was going to thank her.

 

“Did you tell her about the interns?”

 

He nodded. “Showed her that picture you sent me.”

 

Felicia smiled. “Good. Harry picked a good bunch. She’d be proud.”

 

Peter had no idea what to say to that. “Harry … picked them?” he managed, the name almost getting caught in his throat again.

 

Felicia placed a hand on his arm gently, as if to steady him. “Well, he asked my opinion often but he made all the final decisions.”

 

He should have known that. He knew that the program was the last thing that Harry did before leaving - well, that and the letters - but he didn’t realise how invested he was in it. Suddenly, Peter felt incredibly cold. A hand fell against the passport hidden under his hoodie. 

 

It seemed that Felicia had run out of words, she just squeezed his arm instead.

 

“May’s already helping me pack,” he said.

 

“That’s what mothers do.”

 

***

 

Peter hadn’t been able to sleep that night. He’d just lay awake staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out what the hell he was going to say to Harry when he found him for himself. He couldn’t believe that was really a thing that was happening. After his eight hour flight he would be in the same country as Harry, closer than he’d been in months. It felt so close and so far away all at once. Felicia had hung around for possibly too long, talking with May and helping them both with dinner. They talked about plans as well, because of course Felicia had already planned exactly how Peter was getting there down to the last detail. She’d planned the flight, his arrival at the airport, and how he was getting to where Harry was staying. She’d cut every single corner that she could to ensure that Peter would there as quickly as possible - and as safely as possible, which she was quick to point out to May. Peter could barely breathe for the entire conversation. 

 

As he wasted his time, staring at the blank ceiling he went over the letters again in his head one by one. He’d packed them to take with him, though he hadn’t quite figured out why he would need them. They were as much a part of him as Harry was at this point, as weird as that was for him. He checked the clock constantly, counting down the hours before he’d be with his best friend again - his soulmate. It wasn’t a thought he’d really allowed himself but that’s what Harry was. And if Gwen would be ok with it, then he’d accept it. Maybe he’d wanted to this whole time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, or his heart, he’d  _ known _ . 

 

When his alarm startled him, Peter jolted into action and he was at the airport before he could even register moving from his bed. He was a ball of nerves, jittery and constantly in motion. He could register that both May and Felicia had spoken to him, but he had no idea what either of them had said. Thankfully, they seemed content enough to talk amongst themselves. It wasn’t until Peter’s flight had announced it was boarding that it really hit him that he was leaving. He’d never even been on a plane before. As he turned to May, he could tell she was realising the reality of the situation too. He pulled her into a hug without even thinking about it. 

 

“You’ll need to sleep on the plane, Peter, to make up for last night,” she said.

 

Peter wondered if she hadn’t slept either, he nodded against her shoulder. 

 

“Make sure you eat something, and drink some water.” 

 

The words struck him immediately, he could remember her saying the same thing to Harry years ago. He hugged her tighter. 

 

“And remember the jetlag will pass.”

 

“I love you, May,” he muttered, voice just loud enough for her to hear. 

 

May patted the back of his head gently, squeezing him quickly before pulling away. “I love you too.”

 

He swallowed, he hadn’t given himself enough time to prepare for this emotionally. He’d been too busy trying to plan ahead that he hadn’t considered what would be happening right now. “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he said.

 

She nodded, stroked his cheek gently. “Just do what you need to.”

 

Peter nodded, and then Felicia was hugging him. A few months ago, that would have been an oddity, but he’d started to get used to her hugs now. Though no hug would ever be as good as - 

 

“Everything’s going to be ok, Peter. I promise.”

 

He was so overwhelmed he wasn’t sure if he could think of a response for her. “Take care of the kids,” he managed. “For Gwen.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“I’ll text you when I land?”

 

“You better.”

 

He almost laughed, but it got caught in his throat, the tears starting to threaten him. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?” he asked, anxiety crawling under his skin again.

 

“Peter, he’s always wanted that.”

 

All that he knew was that he wanted to believe her. He needed to believe her in order to do what he was about to do, even if he hadn’t quite figured out what that was. He had ten hours left until he was with Harry, and that’s all that mattered. Just ten more hours and he’d be able to breathe again. He hoped. 

 

There was another call for his flight to board and Felicia pulled away. Peter felt far too unsteady on his own two feet, so he pulled May into another hug. The longest he’d ever been away from her was for school camps, and they’d only ever been a few days at the most. Now he had no idea how long he would be away and just the thought of that was stinging his eyes. 

 

“It’s ok, Peter,” she said, in that calming voice of hers, stroking his hair again. 

 

“I love you,” he managed. It didn’t matter if he’d already said it. 

 

“I love you too.”

 

“I’ll call you when I land. And every day until I get back.”

 

Somehow, he knew that she was smiling at that. “Now be a good boy and get on your flight.”

 

Peter had no idea how he managed it, but he pulled away from May, tried his best to return Felicia’s smile and then headed for his flight. He could feel both pairs of eyes on him until he disappeared from view. 

 

***

 

Being in a plane wasn’t nearly as interesting as slinging his way through the city. That was a different kind of flying, a better kind of flying if Peter was being honest. There was more freedom in it that way, just him and his webs. It was active while being in a plane was the complete opposite. He couldn’t really move, as much as his brain needed him to, which left him stuck. He wished that he could pace around to get out all the anxiousness that was stored up, but there was no way to make that a reality right now. His leg tapped against the carpeted floor with increasing consistency, he needed to remain moving somehow and this was all he had. Felicia managed to score him a window seat, and maybe that was a good idea at the time, but staring out the window and watching the scenery change from New York skyscrapers to the vast ocean didn’t have the mystical effect he thought it would. It wasn’t even calming. God, he needed to calm down, but he couldn’t.  

 

Not when he couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. Peter had been so … angry when he saw him last, so full of grief that had manifested in the worst way possible. That was all gone now, fizzled out when he’d realised that living without his best friend hurt more that he had the capacity to handle. Sure they’d been apart before, but there was always the promise of returning to each other. Harry was always supposed to come back. He wrapped a hand around his wrist, over the black armband that still stayed there, the one that was now hiding the fact that Harry’s name was etched onto his skin. Maybe he didn’t have all of this figured out. Maybe it didn’t matter as long as he got there. He wondered how long he would have before Harry tried to push him away again. He guessed he deserved that much for doing the same to him. He would just have to make his point before that happened. At least, as soon as he found his point. Was ‘I love you’ enough? Would that be enough to convince Harry to come back with him? Was that his goal? It had to be. It’s what both Felicia and May had been telling him to do, and he couldn’t stay away from New York forever. He knew that Harry couldn’t either. 

 

***

 

You probably won’t get this until you land   
but check the side pocket of your backpack   
  


There’s Wi-Fi on the plane   
Felicia what did you put in my backpack?

 

Something you might need

 

Which was?

 

Peter, just check for yourself

 

A pocket watch?

 

You mentioned needing one

 

When?

 

When you weren’t in the right frame of mind

 

Oh

 

Not sure what you need it for   
but it’s yours

 

It’s for Harry   
It was a boarding school joke  
from years ago

 

Cute

 

I was supposed to save him

 

You still can

 

I don’t know anymore

 

I know you can, Peter

 

If he’s mad ...

 

He won’t be

 

I hope you’re right

 

How’s the flight?

 

Shit   
No leg room

 

You poor baby

 

Rude of you to not put me in first class

 

Imagine being able to afford that   
and on short notice too

 

Harry probably could

 

Bring him home that way then

 

I’m scared  
Is it weird to be scared?

 

Not when he means as much to you as he does

 

Should I tell him how the kids are doing?

 

I fill him in from time to time

 

I don’t even know how they’re doing   
Wait   
You talk to him?

 

Yes   
I promised him I would

 

I promised him I’d always be his best friend

 

And you are

 

I promised Gwen I’d keep her safe

 

Peter, don’t spiral   
You’re doing so well

 

What happens when I get there?

 

Just stick to the plan just like we organised   
It’s foolproof

 

I don’t know if that’s going to be enough

 

It’s also Peter proof

 

Hah   
Should I have my own plan by now?

 

Tell him you needed to see him

 

I always need to see him

 

There’s your in

 

I’ve spent my whole life needing to see him

 

Maybe lead with the pocket watch   
if that’s something he knows the meaning of

 

I hope he remembers my letters

 

Honestly, he probably has them committed to memory

 

I do

 

Exactly

 

***

 

The first thing Peter did when he got through customs and into Zurich airport was call May to let her know that he was safe, and to tell her that he definitely needed a distraction from his thoughts for a little bit. Of course, she already knew that and they kept up a steady stream of small talk until Peter had to hang up because his brain was starting to catch up with him again and he was getting overwhelmed. He definitely should have slept the night before, or on the plane. Or both, even, that might have been helpful. Peter pushed all thoughts of that to the side, he could deal with how tired he was later. He was running mostly on adrenaline at this point anyway. He followed Felicia’s specific directions out of the terminal, finding the driver that she’d hired exactly where she said he’d be. Peter almost wished that he could have taken her with him, he could have used her smooth logic and calming presence to help talk him down, but there was no way they could leave Oscorp unguarded. As he slid into the car he pulled out his phone and fired off another text to her.

 

Tell me about the kids

 

***

 

Peter hadn’t had enough headspace to think about where Harry would be staying. Truly, it was the last thing on his mind, but as the car pulled up in front of what looked like an ordinary apartment building, he found himself surprised. Somehow he’d seen himself trudging through thick, heavy snow to reach a lone wood cabin in the alps, but that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t even cold enough to snow. This was all far too normal. 

 

Are you sure you gave me the right address?

 

He’s a simple man  
Far more so than we ever expect 

 

This almost looks like …

 

New York?  
It’s probably on purpose

 

Top floor?

 

Yes

 

What if he’s not home?

 

Where else would he be?

  
  


She was right. Of course she was right. He was just stalling. Peter took a deep breath and made his way into the building. He crossed directly to the elevators, incredibly aware of how heavily his heart was beating in his chest. He held down the button meant to close the doors. Someone had told him once if he did that then the lift wouldn’t stop until his floor, he needed that urgency right now. Peter felt like he was about to burst. Harry was here, he could feel it in every nerve in his body. He wondered if Harry would be able to feel it too. If he’d know Peter was here without seeing him first.

  
The elevator dinged and Peter dragged his suitcase out onto the carpet of the top floor. There was a door one end of the hallway, the shiny ‘27’ gleamed at him as he made his way towards it, unable to stop himself from shaking at this point. He stopped in front of the door, pausing for what had to be too long. He fumbled for his phone, aiming to text Felicia but not quite knowing what to say. He considered ‘ _ I’m home’ _ , but she already knew that. Peter forced his phone back into his pocket, loosened his too tight grip on his suitcase handle and reached out. His hand hovered there, his heart thundering in his chest. And then Peter knocked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that Peter's birthday is August 27th?
> 
> Feel free to drop me a line on [Tumblr](http://www.potter-awakening.tumblr.com) if you like


End file.
